


Bring The Cake

by RussianWitch



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality Spectrum, Cake, Developing Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Relationship Negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21823438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianWitch/pseuds/RussianWitch
Summary: Greg is invited to Mycroft's home for dinner, he fears the worst.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 8
Kudos: 102





	Bring The Cake

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd

Only when he was halfway through his piece of chocolate cake, did Greg realize he’d been set up.

In hindsight, he mournfully thought, it had been quite obvious and almost enough to make him wonder if Sherlock wasn’t right after all and he was a right idiot.

Mycroft didn’t cook and certainly never indulged in dessert.

Not without a damn good excuse.

Having gone off the cake, he glares up at the man watching him openly from across the table.

“Let’s have it then,” Greg says with a sigh, the chocolate sponge turning to rock in his stomach. “This the last meal? Do I get a final cigarette as well?” 

Only to have Mycroft roll his eyes at him.

“I was under the impression you’d quit,” he answers, pushing his dessert plate away instead.

“Yes well,” Greg waves the comment off. They are both perfectly aware that Greg may have stopped buying his own cigarettes years ago, but will light up if one is offered and that Mycroft keeps a stash in both his home office and his bedroom despite claiming it was never a _habit--_

Mycroft leans forward with a huff interrupting Greg’s train of thought.

“I was planning on saving this conversation for afters, but I suppose this is as good a time as any.” 

It had been good while it lasted, Greg thinks, after all, he couldn’t expect--well, he could but between their jobs and Sherlock, it was a miracle they had made it through more than a handful of dates.

“I enjoy your company very much, Gregory, and I would like to go on enjoying it for the foreseeable future mutual commitments allowing.”

He raises a hand when Greg opens his mouth to say the enjoyment is mutual.

“That being said, for this--association to continue, I need you to be aware of some facts.” 

“That sounds like you’re about to tell me you turn into a bat at night.” Greg huffs annoyed at not being allowed to speak.

“Last time I checked, I drank the tears of interns, I suppose turning into a bat is an improvement,” Mycroft shrugs, “but the facts I was intending to discuss pertain to sex.” 

Greg feels like a bucket of water is upturned over his head.

The subject hadn’t come up, Greg figured neither of them was in a hurry.

He certainly hadn’t been.

When Mycroft had asked him out the first time, Greg had been surprised to hear himself say ‘yes’. He hadn’t considered taking up with another block since he’d decided to become a copper.

Kissing Mycroft hadn’t been a problem, Greg has enjoyed it from the start he wasn’t sure about the rest, or some of the rest, that Mycroft wasn’t in any hurry either seemed like a relief, until now.

“Sex?” Greg repeats, unsure feeling like an idiot.

“Yes, intercourse, fornication if you will,” Mycroft says waspishly, and Greg hates him a little for saying ‘fornication’ in a way that makes Greg’s cock twitch a little in interest.

“Get to the point, Mycroft!” 

“The average _relationship_ consists of mutual activities, one of those being sex which is a natural consequence of attraction.” 

Mycroft isn’t rambling, he never rambles but Greg realizes the other man is nervous. Somehow that makes it easier for him to wait for whatever it is Mycroft is working up to.

“Are you familiar with the term asexual, Gregory?” Mycroft asks unexpectedly.

“Not sexual?” The term does ring a distant bell, but no more than that. 

“Not feeling sexual attraction,” Mycroft corrects, sitting forward folding his hands on the table.

I’ve fantasized about those hands, Greg thinks, doing things to me--

“You asked me out!” He says accusingly.

“I did say I enjoy your company,” Mycroft reminds him, “I enjoy you aesthetically--”

“You just--what? Don’t want to shag?” Greg wonders.

“Not particularly,” Mycroft confirms, “orgasms are quite enjoyable but--,” he waves his hand, “so is cake.” 

The comparison strikes Greg as funny enough that he finds himself laughing at the situation, right up until the moment he sees Mycroft pulling away.

“I’m not laughing at you!” He hurries to assure getting out of his chair and circling the table. “It’s relief, you git!” 

He grabs the seated man by the shoulders uncaring that he’s wrinkling an obscenely expensive suit and stalls. “Does that mean you don’t want me to touch you?” He asks wondering if he hasn’t just overstepped, has been overstepping for a while now.

“I quite enjoy--cuddling,” Mycroft admits like he’s releasing a state secret, rising into Greg’s embrace. “Physical affection is acceptable, though I’ll never understand why people are so fond of kissing.” He affirms rubbing his cheek against Greg’s.

They sag a bit against each other, Mycroft’s lips brushing against Greg’s hairline as they hold hands.

“It’s the feeling of closeness,” Greg says against Mycroft’s ear, “it’s drowning in your lover, the first electric moment lips meet, tongues explore, it can be consuming.” 

“In my experience, it’s mostly--moist,” Mycroft interjects, holding Greg tighter when the detective smothers his laugh in his throat. “This was leading to a point,” he continues running his hand through the bristles at Greg’s neck, “a request to be specific--,” he pulls away to look Greg in the eyes, “would you share the bed with me?” 

“To sleep?” Greg hasn’t had that for too long, the pleasure of waking up with another body in bed with him, of being able to smile at someone across the pillow.

“To sleep,” Mycroft confirms.

“Good, I’m knackered,” Greg can’t resist brushing his lips across Mycroft’s cheek as they untangle themselves, “so let’s go to bed--and bring the cake.”


End file.
